


won't you be my liney (The Sharp Tooth Remix)

by Vidriana



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Body Horror, Linemate Bonding, M/M, Monsters, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vidriana/pseuds/Vidriana
Summary: Two rounds into the playoffs and Bryan still hasn't changed.





	won't you be my liney (The Sharp Tooth Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [won't you be my liney](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12885846) by [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic). 



> Lots of thanks to my wonderful beta <3

Bryan looks down at his bare, unblemished hands with a clear sense of dread settling in his stomach. Conor stretches out in the locker next to him, and Bryan can hear the distinct clicking noise as he starts tapping his talons against the wooden surface of the stall. It’s become a habit ever since they’d grown, just after their first-round victory over the Rangers. 

“Still nothing?” he asks, worry creasing his forehead, and Bryan shrugs. “Is it just not working, or…?” Bryan doesn’t look at him. Conor lets out a sigh. “Come on, what’s the problem? I thought you were— you know.”

Bryan’s face feels hot at that, and he chances a look across, to the other side of the locker room. Geno looks angry, the set of his shoulders tense and rigid, and he has his teeth bared, fangs clearly visible. Bryan quickly looks away, his gaze instead landing on the corner of the room where Phil and Carl are carefully grooming the feathers of each others’ wings, and he feels a painful tug in his chest.

Conor goes still next to him, and before Bryan can ask what’s wrong, a large shadow falls over them. 

“You, come with me,” Geno says, voice almost a growl, and Bryan can’t quite suppress a flinch at the tone. He gets up nonetheless and follows Geno, an uneasy feeling pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

They don’t go far, just to an empty trainer’s room, and Bryan tries very hard not to let his eyes wander over to the door leading to the adjacent room, the one meant for _Linemate Bonding and Physical Transference,_ as the sign on the door cheerfully declares. Bryan isn’t actually sure what’s in there, but he’s not particularly keen to find out either. He doesn’t sit down, just lingers uncomfortably at the door, watching Geno’s back.

Geno huffs, anger still rolling off him in waves when he turns to Bryan, looking him over with critical eyes. His pupils are slitted and larger than normal, and while Bryan can’t tell which animal they might belong to, it’s still clear that it’s a predator of some sort.

“You don’t have anything. Why?” Geno asks and Bryan ducks his head, unable to meet his eyes. “Sid’s line is working. HBK all have wings. Even D-men all have something.” He makes another frustrated noise and Bryan tries not to shrink down into himself.

“Why not you? You don’t trust me or something?” Geno continues and if Bryan didn’t know better he’d think there was a trace of hurt in his voice.

“I don’t— ,” Bryan starts, but breaks off, unsure what he’s even trying to say. Geno huffs again, still angry, or maybe just annoyed.

“Good. Come with me then,” Geno orders and stalks off towards the adjacent room, his large frame looking strangely hunched in on itself. Bryan hesitates. 

Geno throws him a glance over his shoulder and stops when he sees that Bryan isn’t behind him. 

“What’s wrong?” Geno asks, impatience even more obvious than usual with the way his claws keep extending and retracting almost unconsciously. Bryan steels himself.

“I don’t want to,” he says, voice coming out surprisingly firm and thankfully stutter-free. Geno’s eyebrows narrow. 

“Why you don’t want to?” When Bryan doesn’t answer immediately his eyes narrow further. “You scared is gonna hurt?” He sounds curious instead of angry now and Bryan feels his cheeks go hot.

“I don’t actually know how transference works,” he admits. “If it doesn’t just...happen, I mean.” He looks down at his hands again, his normal, human fingernails and the soft vulnerable skin of his wrist. 

“I don’t hurt you,” Geno declares, sounding offended at the mere implication. “We just touch, talk.” He makes a face, the silly expression offsetting his more animal characteristics and making him look like the center Bryan had first met during the regular season, playful and quick to tease. Bryan shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “I need share, need protect wingers, you know?”

“Shearsy said—” he starts, but breaks off, his face going hot again. Geno makes another noise, somewhere between a snarl and a laugh.

“We don’t have sex if you don’t want,” Geno says. “Is tradition, but not necessary.” The urge to ask if Geno wants to is like an angry itch underneath Bryan’s skin but he ignores it. Geno inclines his head towards the door and this time Bryan actually follows.

The room isn’t anything like he had expected. There’s a bed in one corner like he’d pictured, but there are couches as well and even a table with chairs in another corner. Bryan hovers by the door awkwardly, but Geno doesn’t linger, just marches forward and drops down on one of the couches, stretching out his long limbs. 

He doesn’t look angry anymore like he had in the locker room, and not nearly as intimidating, and Bryan only wavers a little before sitting down next to him, close enough to touch. From this close up the fangs poking out of the corners of Geno’s mouth look almost comical, too big for his face and not dangerous at all. 

Geno’s clawed hand softly touches Bryan’s arm and he jerks. Immediately the frown is back on his face, but before he can pull away Bryan reaches out and takes Geno’s hand in his own, interlinking their fingers. Geno’s claws feel cold against the fragile skin, but they don’t hurt him.

“So, how do we do this?” he asks, genuinely curious instead of apprehensive now. Geno shrugs.

“Relax, we don’t do anything, just wait. Most important is trust, but physical contact is good. More is better, but can just hold hands.” Bryan hesitates, then shifts closer to Geno, until their knees touch. Geno looks up, but Bryan can’t see his expression, too focused on the loose thread hanging from the edge of his shorts. He’s not surprised when Geno carefully reaches out to sling one of his long arms around Bryan’s shoulders to pull him closer.

He breathes out when he’s fully settled against Geno’s side and tries to relax. He expects Geno to say something, but he doesn’t, just sits perfectly still with Bryan against his side, pressed together so close Bryan can actually feel him breathe. 

It’s nice, companionable. Not at all what he had expected from Geno’s monstrous form. They just sit in silence, Bryan’s muscles slowly losing their tension, his breathing calming, until it matches Geno’s slow inhales. Eventually he falls asleep.

He wakes up feeling warm and safe. He blinks once, looking down at the blanket covering him in confusion, but his eyes catch on something else, something shimmering. There’s a thin layer of scales snaking its way up his arm, starting at his wrist and coming up to cover his whole forearm. 

The scales are cool to the touch and hard, like iron plating or something, even though they shift seamlessly when he moves his arm. 

“Okay?” Geno asks, and Bryan jumps. Geno’s still sitting on the couch, but some distance away, looking at him with some apprehension, like he’s not quite sure how Bryan will react to finally seeing some improvements. Bryan smiles.

“Yes, they’re perfect.”


End file.
